A/N: Nothing but smut. With love. ADULT rating.

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Meddling – Robin 16
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There are tons of sayings and famous quotations about time.

Time heals all wounds.

Time changes everything.

Time flies when you're having fun.

Time is the most valuable thing a man can spend.

There is ever enough time, unless you're serving it.

I have one of my own – there is never enough time to spend with Dr. Patrick Drake.

He's done it, I am now president of his fan club. We're loosely holding hands over the gear shift as we drive to the Hyannis airport to go home and I'm giving serious thought to having t-shirts made. For Patrick, not me, to wear, that says, "I Belong to Robin Scorpio."

Amazing how much can change in six months. Even more amazing is how much can change in a week.

Six months ago I was in Paris living a limited life. I loved my work, but it consumed me. I had some friends, but no one to spend my birthday with. Brenda and my mother were closer, but not even in the same country. I was lonely, sad and trapped. Now, I love my work, though it still consumes me. I'm back home surrounded by my friends and family at every turn. I have a boyfriend that is wanted – perhaps had – by a majority of women and who I am mad about. I am surrounded by love, happy and free. There are no limits.

Eight days ago making love on Jax's plane was unthinkable to me, not making love on the way back is unthinkable. It's perfectly understandable from a psychological perspective, it's an urge akin to the one people have to have to gorge before embarking on a diet. It just works for me to have a perfectly sound psychological reason why Patrick Drake is going to be naked the moment we get on the plane.

"You have that lascivious grin again," Patrick accuses gleefully from the driver's seat.

"Do I?" I asked, though I clearly can't stop grinning.

"Ye-e-s." Patrick stretches the word out. "That particular grin is the kind that's going to have me pull this car over." He turns and looks at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Actually, this is the kind of grin that should have you speeding up and getting to that plane a.s.a.p."

Without a word Patrick steps on the gas.

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"Now, about that grin." Patrick grabs me by the waist and plops us down on the plane couch, with me in his lap the moment the door closes, my back towards him.

"Mmmmm. What about it?" Patrick is unbuttoning my shirt as I lean back into his chest. His erection is pressing urgently into my backside. "I'm sore," I complain.

"Poor baby." He uses his thighs to spread mine and slips a hand between them to gently strokes me. I suck in a breath and lean my head back. "I'll just have to make it better."

"Do we even have any condoms left?" I moan and press into his hand.

"I think we might have a few." His chuckle vibrates though my whole body, which feels amazing. "But you're sore." His voice has not on ounce of sympathy and a full measure of seduction.

"Patrick." I reach down and press his fingers more urgently against me. I am sore, but I don't care, that's how addicted I am to this man. I know if I don't get a handle on this soon I'm going to commit some seriously unprofessional acts in our place of work. I've given myself permission to not deal with it until we reach Port Charles.

" Does Dr. Scorpio need something?" He whispers in my ear and then begins to nibble the fleshy part.

"Please." I am past pride, past pretense. My fingers itch to unbutton my jeans, but I can tell that Patrick wants to guide me, us, on this last fling.

"Good girl." He unhooks the frontal clasp on my bra with one hand and pushes it aside and begins to tease an aching nipple. His lips move from my ear and down my neck to my shoulder, which he accesses by using his hands briefly to push my shirt down my arms.

"We have fifteen minutes," I remind him after he does nothing but play on me for five minutes – not that I don't completely enjoy it. I fully expect him to ignore me or taunt me, so I'm taken by surprise when he rips open my pants and pushes them off my hips and down my legs and then traces a finger over my panties. I am able to fully enjoy his touch with no moment of worry that he will unthinkingly endanger himself by sliding a finger that might have a cut underneath my panties, he has been nothing but supremely responsible, sensitive and knowledgeable about the limitations of making love to an HIV woman; he has, in fact, turned those limitations into techniques to increase our pleasure. I buck and moan as his talented fingers use the seam of my panties to increase the friction as he rubs the material at the sensitive spot at my center. At the same time, his teeth press just enough to be arousing, without danger of breaking skin against my neck. The dual sensations jolt my senses.

"I want to be inside you." I gasp and arch back against him.

Patrick has discovered how much aural stimulation increases my arousal.

He bucks his hips under me, pressing his rock hard arousal into me. I press back, urging him on.

I want to whimper with relief when he loops an arm around my waist and gets up and deposits us on the couch. With a swiftness that tells of his vast experience, and for which I can be nothing but grateful, he has us both completely naked an underneath him in less than a minute. He is ripping open a condom wrapper as I stroke his blood reddened member. With one hand he unrolls it on his arousal and leans down and gives me a wet, open-mouthed kiss as he slides inside me. I am sore, but I need him with an ache that overrides the pain of his lubricated entry.

I clamp my legs on his thighs as he fills me. I arch my back bringing him deeper.

"Robin." He whispers my name against my lips and then tastes of me as he slowly pulls out and gently slides back in. His hands on my hips to keep my still. The pace he is setting is taking something out of him, I feel him tremble above me, but I know he's doing it to minimize my discomfort. It does so much more than that; this slow pace is driving me up and over fast. It's just enough that my insides are grabbing for more. My hands are squeezing his torso. I imagine his firm stomach muscles rippling as he flows into me and light explodes in front of my eyes.

I cry out. He cries out. We race to the pinnacle and slowly find out way back down together. His sweat drips onto my body. He collapses, careful to keep his weight on his arms, I push one hand out from under him, wanting to feel his weight on top of me. Needing for him to hold me to the earth as I come down from flight.

"I love you." I don't know who says it. It doesn't matter. It's what we both feel.

Around us we feel the plane begin its descent towards Port Charles.